Nunquam Indulgeo, Nunquam Alieno
by KayValo87
Summary: SEQUEL TO "FIRSTBORN" Soon after Sam discovers his brother's secret, the two are pulled into a new hunt where Dean is asked to save someone he hates to help someone he loves.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so here is story #3, where you will learn the secret Dean has been keeping since "Once Upon A Stage". (And you can all thank crazybookworm95 for the quick posting. :) )

Sorry if you got confused by the title, but some of my friends suggested putting it in Latin. (The translation is "Never Forgive, Never Forget", which will make a lot more sense as the story goes on.)

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the Winchesters, but Kripke is nice enough to share.

Enjoy ...

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**Chapter 1**

"Would you just tell me already?"

"Drop it Sam."

With a frustrated sigh, Sam followed Dean and Bobby into the Roadhouse, taking a seat between the two at the bar.

"Hi Boys," Ellen smiled. "What can I get for you?"

"Beers will be fine." Bobby answered.

"Dean," Sam tried again, "why won't you tell me?"

"Do you think a werewolf could be behind the murder we heard about west of here?"

"The lunar cycle is wrong and don't change the subject."

Dean shrugged, taking his beer from Ellen. He turned in his chair to face Sam and Bobby, bumping into a bleach blond woman. They both looked up and froze.

"You!" She whispered.

The woman pulled a gun and leveled it at Dean's chest. Sam tensed, but Dean held up his hand, motioning that everything was fine.

"What the h&%^ are you doing here?" She hissed.

"Having a beer." He replied casually. "You?"

Clearly she didn't appreciate his laid back manner, since she shifted her stance to a better firing position. This didn't seem to phase Dean as he continued to stare her down. Sam wondered exactly what Dean did to tick her off. Knowing his brother … it could be anything.

"Hey," Ellen leaned over the counter, "I don't want any trouble in here. So either put that away or leave."

"Why don't you tell him to leave?"

"Because he's not the one with the .45." Sam spat.

She turn, so the gun was now aimed at him.

"Do you have a problem?"

"This is between you and me," Dean growled, "leave him out of this."

"I recognize that tone …" She studied him closely over her weapon. "You must be Sam."

"Tracy."

Dean's voice was hard, he was obviously not playing games with her anymore.

"Fine, I'm leaving. And don't even THINK about following me Dean Winchester … or I'll make good on my last threat."

"You wouldn't get the chance."

"You think having your baby brother with you changes anything?" Tracy scoffed. "You wish."

"I won't tell you again." Ellen warned, he hand going under the counter to where Sam knew she kept a rifle.

"Don't worry," Tracy said quietly, "I'm leaving."

Keeping her eyes on Dean, but her weapon trained on Sam, Tracy started to back away. Suddenly, a small girl, about six to eight years old, pushed her way through the crowd, almost winding up right in front of the gun. Dean tensed when he saw her and Tracy swiveled the barrel so it was aimed at Dean and away from the brown haired child. Her green eyes grew wide as she look at the brothers, before facing Tracy.

"Mom!" She exclaimed. "He didn't even DO anything!"

"Yet."

Sam gave Dean a questioning look. He didn't know who these people were, or what history they had with his brother, but he was going to find out.

"Dean?"

"You look confused, Sammy."

"It's Sam." He corrected, glaring at the smirk she was giving Dean.

"So you never told your brother, huh? I bet your Dad didn't know either." She looked down at the girl. "See? What did I tell you?"

She scowled at her mother and moved between Dean and the gun, causing Tracy to immediately switch her aim back to Sam.

"If he didn't tell anyone, he must have had a reason," she hissed, "now leave them alone."

Tracy looked at her daughter and back to Dean before holstering her weapon.

"Fine, we were just leaving anyway. And Dean," Tracy's gaze past over Sam, "it's not nice to lie to your family. Or are you afraid they won't love you anymore if they knew about your past mistakes?"

"Tracy, the only mistake I made was meeting you," Dean shot back.

With a smug smile to her daughter, Tracy turned to leave. The girl didn't follow, staring at her snuffling feet.

"I'll meet you in the truck."

"Mikayla." Tracy shot the girl a hard look. "You heard what he said. He wishes he didn't know us."

Dean sat up straighter, ready to protest, but the girl cut him off.

"That's not what he said!" Mikayla took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Please Mom, it's been three years."

Tracy paused, looking from Sam to Dean, and nodded.

"Five minutes and I send in Alchemy." She looked up at Dean, nodding her head in Sam's direction. "Remember our deal, Dean."

Dean just answered with a cold glare and Tracy left, bringing the tension levels back to normal. The girl turned and hugged Dean.

"I missed you." She said into his coat.

Dean smiled and returned the hug.

"I missed you too, Kit-Kat."

She moved back and touched her forehead to Dean's and the two shared a small smile, before pulling back and facing the other hunters.

"Right." Dean turned on his stool, "Sam, Bobby, this is Mikayla. Mikayla, Sam and Bobby."

"Hi," She smiled. "I've heard a lot about you guys. Sorry about my mom, she gets crabby sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Dean scoffed.

"Well …" Mikayla shifted her eyes to Dean, "certain people bring out the worst in her."

"Hey, I didn't do anything." Dean claimed, picking up his drink. "She's the one that has a problem with me."

"Pretty sure she still blames you for everything."

"Whatever." He shrugged, taking a swig of beer.

"Anyway, I should get going before she sends in the dogs … literally."

"Yeah …" Dean said softly, "Yeah, you should."

The looked at each other awkwardly for a few more seconds before sharing a quick hug.

"See ya later, Kit-Kat."

"Lets hope it's not so long next time."

With a wave to Sam and Bobby, Mikayla raced out the door and Dean turned his back on her, resting his arms on the bar.

"What the h&^* just happened?"

"Not now Sam."

"Dean-"

"Sam." He snapped, giving him a hard look. "Not. Now."

Seeing the pain in his older brother's eyes made him back off, but there was no way he was going to let this go. Soon, Sam would get his answers.

**~~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean grabbed his duffel on the way into the hotel room and headed for the shower, trying to avoid what he knew was inevitable, but it look like Sam was sick of waiting. He cut in front of Dean, blocking his access to the bathroom.

"Oh, so I can't take a shower now?"

"Not until you tell us what is going on."

Dean dropped his bag and turned back to the door, but Bobby was leaning against it.

"So, who's Tracy?" The older hunter asked.

"Let it go."

"What's going on with you?" Sam asked. "You've been like this since we met Julius."

Dean sat down on the edge of his bed and ran his hand across his face. He hated talking about his feelings under normal circumstances … but this …

"Hey," He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder, "we just want to help."

"You want to help me huh?" Dean muttered, "then why don't you start by backing off?"

"Dean, I'm your brother, I'm not going to let you carry this alone." He felt more then saw Sam sit next to him. "Talk to me, man. What happened between you and Tracy?"

Dean just pushed himself off the bed and started rummaging through his duffel. If they wouldn't let him leave the room, he might as well do something productive while he ignores them. Selecting one of his guns, Dean sat down on his bed and started to take it apart.

"Is it the kid?" Sam questioned.

Dean froze for a second, pushing back the feelings that suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. It was too soon to deal with this … then again … it was always too soon.

"It is isn't it?"

"Shut up, Sam." He whispered, setting the slide aside.

"What is with this? You don't even like kids, what makes this one so speci-"

He glanced up, locking eyes with his little brother. The look on Sam's face said it all, he knew the truth.

"She's yours?"

Dean dropped his gaze to the half assembled gun in his hands, but that seemed to be answer enough.

"I don't believe this." Sam said, but the shock didn't last long. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Does it matter?" Dean muttered, continuing to take apart the gun.

"Uh, yeah Dean, I think it kinda does." Sam's face a blend of hurt and anger. "How the h&^* could you keep this from me?"

"Never came up."

"Seriously?" Sam gaped. "Never came up? Not even when we found Julius, or Nicki? You didn't think it was a good time to mention that you had another kid out there?"

Dean didn't answer, instead he just set the pieces of gun aside and pulled on his coat.

"No, Dean," Sam grabbed his arm, "you are not just walking away from this."

"Watch me." Dean challenged, shaking him free.

Reaching the door he gave Bobby a hard look and the older hunter reluctantly stepped out of the way. Once outside, Dean got into the Impala and took off for the nearest bar, all the while his thoughts made there way back to that one winter night he would never be able to forget.

_**February 12th, 1999**_

Dean ran down the long white hallway looked at each room number as it passed. Finding the right one he burst in and froze. Tracy sat in the hospital bed staring out the window. Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, Dean cleared his throat. She looked at him blankly.

"Um … hi."

She just continued to stare at him.

"So … uh … where is she?"

"She's two months early," Tracy snapped, "where do you think she is?"

Dean swallowed hard, not sure what to say.

"Can I see her?"

"Why? You didn't even want her."

Her words stung as he remembered the phone call several weeks back. He told her he wasn't ready. He told her a hunter's life was no life for a baby. She hung up on him and he didn't hear anymore until the hospital called him. He knew his dad would have his hide for taking off in the middle of the night, leaving Sam alone in the motel, but he had to be here. There were so many complications … they almost lost them both.

Deciding to take a walk to clear his thoughts, Dean went back into the hall heading for the stairs. A short, brown haired, nurse stopped him just after he left the room.

"Are you the baby's father?"

"Yes."

"Please come with me."

She led him passed a door marked Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

"I don't know what is going on between you and her mother," she spoke gently, "but I think every father should at least get the chance to hold their child. Would you like to?"

"Um, yeah, I guess." He nodded, slipping on the papery clothing she handed him. "So, how did you know that Tracy and I …"

"Well … let's just say she wasn't happy when she found out we called you."

"How did you even get my number?"

"Her phone. She … um … gave us your name when she was … uh …"

"Drugged?" Dean guessed.

She just gave him a small smile and led the way into the other room.

When he saw the baby he sucked in his breath. Her red body was so tiny with tubes and monitors attached here and there. She was wearing nothing but a small diaper and a thin, knit, cap. The nurse wrapped her in a pink blanket and lifted her up, placing her gently in his arms. Dean went ridged for fear he might break her.

"First time, huh?"

Dean gave her an awkward smile, but couldn't take his eyes off the squirming thing in his arms.

"Hey." He whispered.

The baby opened her eyes and stared at him, taking his breath away. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, tubes and all.

"What's her name?"

"Mikayla Christine." The nurse answered.

Dean smiled at the baby … his baby. Looking into those bright green eyes, nothing else in the world mattered, just his little girl.

**^N^V^N^A^**

"You can't keep her from me, Tracy."

Dean stood at the foot on her hospital bed, staring down the other hunter.

"Watch me."

"You try it and, I swear, I'll take her myself."

She gave him a icy look.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me."

He was way passed trying to work things out. If there was one thing Dean didn't abandon it was family ... and no one was going to walk away with his child.

"Mikayla is mine!"

"No," Dean argued, "she is OURS."

"Don't make me do something you'll regret."

"Like what, Tracy? Are you going to shoot me? Because that is the ONLY way I'll let you take her."

He watched the emotions crossing her face … fear ... anger … and cold determination.

"I'll call child services." She said softly.

Dean stared at her in confusion.

"What? On yourself?"

"No Dean," her voice barely above a whisper, "on your father."

It took a minute for the weight of her words to sink in.

"He's only fifteen." Her voice was getting stronger. "If they show up and find him alone in a motel … then there are all those scars and bruises …"

"You leave Sam out of this." He growled.

"Then you leave us. You walk away, go back to your family, and never look back. Because, the day I see you again, I'll call CPS, I swear I will."

Dean faced the window, trying to get a hold of his emotions. If she took Sammy from them … he couldn't let that happen. But what about his daughter? If he let them walk out the door he would never see her again. So who was it going to be, his brother or his baby?

"Tracy, don't make me choose." He whispered.

"Dean Winchester," she said in surprise, "are you begging?"

He ground his teeth, wishing he hadn't left his gun in the car so he could empty a clip into her smug face. But in the end, he had only one choice.

"I'll leave." He growled.

Glaring at the satisfied look on her face, he stood at the foot of the bed.

"But, if you don't take care of her," Dean warned, "I will hunt your a#$ down, I swear I will."

She didn't back down from his gaze. After a few minutes he grabbed his coat was gone.

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So, anyone see that coming? How many of you want to kill Tracy?

Well, I will get started on the next chapter just as soon as I can. In the meantime, please let me know what you think. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this chapter is so short (and late) but it is not easy for me to write anger/angst.

A special thanks to Monkeymuse who took the time to co-write two parts of this chapter to help me with my writer's block. YAY MONKEY!

Anyway, on with the chapter ...

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Chapter 2**

Sam puled up the police records page with ease. It wasn't the first time he had checked a hunter out, and it wouldn't be the last. All he needed now was a name.

"Ah s#*&." Bobby muttered.

Sam looked over to where the older hunter was talking on his phone.

"Yeah, that's all I needed … Thanks." He hung up and turned to Sam. "She's a Holden."

"Name sounds familiar." Sam commented.

"It should. They are an entire family of hunters."

"They good?"

"Well," Bobby scratched the back of his neck, "most are decent, a couple are good, and some are so bad it's a miracle they are still alive."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Problem is they're ruthless." Bobby answered. "Picture a couple dozen Gordon Walkers and you get the idea."

D^%&, that was bad. Sam turned back to his laptop and typed in Tracy Holden. A parade of charges ranging from grave desecration and assault to grand larceny and murder one flashed across the screen. Typical for a hunter, but the sheer number of them told Sam she was not very good at covering her tracks. H&%$, she was lucky she had not been arrested yet- oh wait … three arrests. Broke out before trial every time.

"Why would he do it, Bobby?"

"What?"

"Why would he give up his daughter? It doesn't make sense."

"The h^%& if I know." Bobby muttered.

Out of curiosity, Sam typed in Mikayla Holden and only came up with a couple of child services reports accusing Tracy of abuse and neglect. Again, typical of a hunter, but not of one so young. The fact there were so few of them said that either she doesn't use her real name very often or she just doesn't get caught, but in any case, Mikayla had a list of documented injuries that were uncommon for an average eight year old.

"How old do the Holdens start hunting?"

"Don't know the exact age," Bobby answered, "but it's rumored that every Holden makes their first kill before their eight birthday. Why?"

"Just wondering." Sam responded, looking over the number of times his niece had broken a bone.

It made him sick to think about that little girl being out on the front lines, hunting monsters that most kids her age only see in their nightmares. If she had been with Dean, that never would have happened. Dean would have been a good dad and protected her … but why didn't he?

**~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~**

Finishing off his third beer, Dean debated with himself on whether he should have another or start on shots. He still had to drive back to the hotel, since there was no way he was calling Sam to pick him up, but the beer was not doing anything to drown his emotions. Mikayla had grown so much … d%^* he was doing it again. Every freaking time he saw her he went through this. The hospital when she was born … the motel when she was two … the park when she was three … and then there was that last time. For three wonderful days he was a dad, just him and her on the road … until Tracy and her f&^*ing cousins screwed it all to h#$%.

"Forget about it, Dean." He muttered to himself. "It was a long time ago, just let it go."

Right, like THAT would ever happen. They had crossed the line three years ago, and as soon as he got his hands on those a%$holes they were going to pay. Until then, he was going to have to find a better distraction

"Hey," an attractive brunette smiled seductively, sitting down next to him, "mind if I join you?"

Oh look, a distraction.

"My name is Scarlet," She said, leaning towards him, "what's yours?"

"Dean."

"So, what do you say we go somewhere more private?"

Dean barely had time to open his mouth before a meaty hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. He found himself face to face with a guy who was built like a linebacker and smelled like a liquor store.

"You hitting on my girl, punk?"

Oh look, she's a better distraction then he thought, she was providing stress relief. Too bad she picked the one guy in the bar who both wanted a fight and could take on her inebriated boyfriend.

"Absolutely." Dean grinned. "I mean, she's freaking hot. You don't mind do you?"

The comment had the desired effect and a second later Dean saw the first blow headed straight for his face. The guy was fast, but also sloppy and Dean easily managed to deflect the blow. With a roar, the man charged when his first attack failed, knocking them back into a table that crumbed under the strain sending them both to the floor, one on top of the other. Crushing the hunter under his enormous weight, the guy used that to his advantage, landing two quick blows to each side of Dean's ribcage before he managed to buck him off and land a snap kick to the drunk's chin. The man staggered to his feet and spat blood on the ground.

"You're dead a$*hole." He bellowed as he pulled a butterfly knife.

Dean lowered his stance to make himself a smaller target, the knife upped the stakes a bit but he could still deal with this guy. Dean quickly side stepped the man's first jab, only to have the jerk slice the knife across on his forearm. The blade bit into his skin drawing blood quickly which dripped off the tips of his fingers as he held his arm to his chest.

"Okay," Dean hissed, "play time is over a%$hat."

With blinding speed due to years of training, he quickly took his attacker to the floor, jacking his arms up behind his back, putting enough pressure to incapacitate him with dislocating both his arms. With all off his focus on the big guy, Dean never saw the hit coming. Black spots danced before his eyes as he turned to face the new threat … and was more surprised then he should have been when Scarlet jumped on him, clawing at his face. With his ears ringing, he stood to dislodge the crazy woman who was now latched onto his back and pulling hair.

"You leave my man alone!" She cried, trying to gouge out his eyes. "You leave my Bill alone, or I'll kick your a^$!"

Gripping her hands, he had just managed to keep from being blinded when another voice rang out.

"FREEZE! EVERYBODY DOWN NOW!"

Great, he thought as he lowered himself to the floor, who the h^%$ called the cops? At least he wasn't packing, for once. It wasn't long before all three of them were carted off to the police station, where he immediately requested his phone call. Knowing that Sam was mad enough without adding a barroom brawl to the list of things to fight about, Dean dialed the next best number.

"Hello?" The gruff voice answered.

"Hey," Dean started, "how's my favorite lawyer?"

"What the h&%$ did you do now, ya idjit?"

**~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

As soon as Sam heard the Impala pull up, followed by Bobby's truck, he headed straight for the ice packs. Dean could usually hold his own in a fight, and no doubt the police already patched him up, but after years of helping Dean through the aftermath of one fight or another Sam had learned to be prepared. And man, did his brother look like s#^%. A thick white bandage wrapped around his arm, a butterfly bandage secured a cut above his blackened eye, not to mention the the stiff way he was moving. What did the guy hit him with, a dump truck?

"You know, you really look like crap." He commented, tossing Dean an ice pack.

He muttered something that resembled thanks and gently placed it against his eye.

"So …" Sam started, glancing down at his hands.

"So?" Dean questioned, giving his brother a weird look.

"So, are we going to talk about this."

"Talk about what?"

"You know what, jerk. Stop being so dense."

"I'm not being dense," Dean snapped, "I just have no idea what you what to talk about Sam."

"I think talking about the fact you had a daughter that YOU KNEW about for YEARS is something we need to talk about." Sam shot back. "I mean MY GOD Dean! Did you even tell dad you had a kid before he died? He could have got to know her. We could have been a family."

"Drop it Sam, You do not want to go there with me. Not you, not tonight."

The warning in his tone was clear, but Sam was not about to back down.

"Why Dean? You're the one that always talking about how you never leave family behind. How you have to stick it out together. H&^% Dean, you b%t*h#d me out for going to college. You don't want me to ask about your daughter, why? Because YOU ran away from her! You hid the truth about her for years, like she was some dirty little secret ."

Tossing the ice pack aside, Dean grabbed Sam's shirt, pinning him to the wall.

"You shut the f^%& up about things you don't know about!" He hissed. "You have no idea what it cost me to walk away!"

Sam could see the rage and pain burning in his brothers eyes. Something ad happened between him and Tracy, something bad. What did that b^%&# do to his brother? But before he could press him farther, smoke on the water rang out from Dean's pocket. Without taking his eyes off Sam, he held him back with one hand and reached into his pocket, flipping open his phone.

"What?" He growled.

In seconds, rage that had been building began to melt away and Dean took a step away from Sam.

"What's wrong? … Where? … I'll be there in two hours … alright."

Shoving his cellphone back into his pocket, Dean immediately started to gather his things.

"Pack up," he ordered, "we're leaving in ten."

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean kept his eyes locked on the road as he sped down the highway in silence. Sam hadn't said a word since they parted ways with Bobby, but that was fine. He wasn't in the mood to talk anyway, and not for the same reason as his brother. He was still pissed about what he said, but something else had come up.

"Where are we going?" Sam grumbled, pulling out the map.

"Nebraska."

"We've been in Nebraska for the last hour."

"And?"

"You are going to have to tell me eventually."

"You'll see when we get there."

"Fine." Sam huffed and sunk back into his seat, turning so that he was facing the window.

Dean suppressed the urge to let out a frustrated sigh. Why couldn't Sam understand that it was just better this way? He could, and would, get over the anger eventually, but he wouldn't get over the guilt of being used, and that was one fact Dean was determined not to share.

"Will you at least tell me who called you?"

"Nope."

He didn't have to look over to know his brother was glaring at him, but he didn't care. They were less then an hour from Columbus and bringing that up would only restart the fight. Just thinking about the call, Dean increased his speed slightly. Why would she call him? What could have her so scared that asking him for help was her only option? Then again, it didn't matter. The only thing that matter was she had called and she needed help. When it came to his baby girl, that was good enough.

"We'll be there soon." He stated, not sure who he was trying to reassure.

Hang in there, Kit-Kat, he thought to himself, daddy's coming.

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What do you think?

I'll get the next part up as soon as possible. In the mean time reviews are always welcome. :)

COMING SOON: You REALLY get to meet Daddy's little girl. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long. I'll spare you the details, but in short, Real Life decided it would be fun to make me so busy that I spend all my free time sleeping. Isn't that nice?:P

Anyway, I have not posted in a while and figured you guys had been patient enough.

Enjoy ...

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Chapter 3**

Driving through Columbus, Dean kept an eye out for the freaking boat Tracy drove. He understood that with her big dog and weapons stash she would want a good sized vehicle, but she still could have done a lot better then a blue and white '81 Ford Bronco.

"Dean, that was the third hotel you passed. Where are you going?"

Silently keeping his eyes on the road, Dean was beginning to wonder the same thing. Meeting with Mikayla was risky enough, and this was the first time he had ever done it on purpose, but with Tracy and Sam in the same town … they really had to be careful. He had half a mind to just drop him off at the next motel he passed until he knew what was going on, but after last time- A vibration in his pocket pulled him out of his thoughts. Pulling out his cellphone, he quickly scanned the text and pulled a u-turn.

"Now where are we going?" Sam muttered, bracing himself against the dashboard at the sudden maneuver.

As an answer, and hopefully a way to shut him up, Dean tossed him his cell phone.

"Mikayla? We're going to see Mikayla after Tracy tried to shoot you?"

So much for wishful thinking.

"She wouldn't have hit me." Dean responded, dismissively.

"Right," Sam snorted, "because you are just THAT good."

Dean shrugged, willing to let Sam think that was the reason, while he pulled around the back of Mikayla's hotel.

"You coming or what?"

Not waiting for an answer, Dean climbed out of the car and headed for the stairs. The sooner he found out what was wrong, the sooner he could help his little girl.

**~~~~~~~~~Sam's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

When Mikayla opened the door, she seemed surprised to see Sam standing there, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she glanced around the hallway before quickly ushering them inside and locking the door. Kinda reminded Sam of the old spy movies and he was half expecting her to hand him some secret documents.

"It great to see you guys." She smiled, walking over to the couch. "Dinner is on the table."

Turning around, Sam got his first confirmation that she was Dean's kid. On the table, instead of take out or pizza, was three quarters of a pumpkin pie. Of course, his older brother doesn't mind the lack of nutrition, and helps himself to a large piece.

"Somfing wong?" Mikayla mumbled around a mouthful of pie.

Oh yeah, this was DEFINITELY Dean's kid.

"Mikayla …" Sam started slowly, "this is not dinner."

"Yes it is." She stated.

"No, this is dessert."

"No, dessert is what you eat AFTER dinner, THIS is dinner."

"This isn't even healthy."

"Pumpkin IS healthy." She protested. "And if you add the milk, eggs and flour, you've got more food groups then most microwave meals."

Moving over to the mini-frige, Mikayla reached in and pulled out a can of whipped cream, offering it Sam.

"Want an extra shot of dairy?"

"That's my girl." Dean grinned, spearing another hunk of the custard like filling.

Mikayla suddenly turned serious and looked from Dean to Sam and back.

"Oh … so he … um …"

"Yeah he knows." Dean muttered, finishing off his first piece.

The little girl nodded slightly, her eyes locked on the floor, as she fiddled with the can.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"For what?" Sam asked, confused by the sudden change in demeanor.

"Well … it's just that … I asked Mom if we could stop at the road house and-"

"Stop." Dean ordered, putting his plate aside.

Instantly, Mikayla closed her mouth and gave Dean her undivided attention. With her messy brown hair, wide green eyes, and dusting of freckles, Sam could have been looking at a younger version of Dean whenever John used that tone … besides the fact her hair went passed her shoulders and she was wearing a purple shirt. Still, the similarities were almost scary.

"None of this is your fault." Dean continued, looking his daughter in the eye. "None of this ever was your fault, none of this ever will be your fault, so don't go blaming yourself. Got it?"

"Yes Daddy." She responded, though Sam could tell she still felt guilty.

"Hey," Dean said gently, taking the can out of her hands and pulling her closer, "you didn't cause this, okay? Your mom and me-"

"You didn't do it." She interrupted. "She made you stay away. It's not your fault either."

She made him? Sam looked at Dean for answers, but all he saw was a brief flash of anger in his older brother's eyes before he turned away.

"Point is, Kit-Kat, you need to stop blaming yourself for things you can't control." He dished up a second piece and covered it with whipped cream. "So what's this hunt you needed help with?"

Way to change the subject, Sam thought to himself. But it was okay, he didn't really feel like confronting Dean in front of his kid anyway. No, he could wait … but they WERE going to talk about this later. Turning his attention back to Mikayla who had moved to the coffee table at sort through a pile of papers.

"Something has been drowning people in a river near here." She began handing them each a stack of obituaries. "The deaths are not super frequent, but it's been enough to bring a few hunters around."

"Why didn't they stop it?" Sam asked, scanning through the papers.

They were mostly men of varying ages and backgrounds with a few children here and there. No obvious connection between the victims, but that didn't mean anything.

"They tried." She answered, pointing out a few John Doe drownings. "The last hunter to attempt it was one of my mom's Joes."

"Joes?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Kit-Kat's word for Johns." Dean explained, leafing through his own stack. "Tracy is a-"

"Daddy …"

"Tracy gets around."

"Anyway," Mikayla continued, before Sam could inquire further, "Mom thought that she would take care of it. You know, avenge Joe's death. She thought since she is a woman, she would have the advantage."

Dean snorted, but stayed silent. Mikayla rolled her eyes, let out a small sigh, and went back to her stack of research.

"Since some of the victims were kids around my age, Mom won't let me anywhere near the river."

"First smart thing she's done in a while." Dean muttered.

"Daddy, you promised." Mikayla warned.

Dean held up his hand as both an apology and a way to signal her to keep talking. Wow, Sam never thought he would see the day when his gun loving, monster killing, smarta*$ brother would be controlled by a tiny little girl.

"So," Mikayla went on, "since all the witnesses describe a woman, Mom believes that an angry spirit is behind the drownings."

"But you don't think so." Dean guessed.

"Uh-huh." Mikayla nodded and grabbed a thick file off the table. "I managed to get a hold of Joe's notes and some research from the hunter before him. They both thought it was an angry spirit, possibly a woman in white."

"But a woman in white doesn't drown her victims or go after children." Sam pointed out.

"Exactly." Mikayla agreed. "And angry spirits tend to be more picky with their MO."

"So what do you think it is?" Dean asked, setting aside the obituaries for the file.

"Well … this is gonna sound crazy … but …" She took a deep breath and shuffled her feet, before finishing in a rush, "I think it's a Rusalka."

Sam knew Dean's confusion was based on that fact he had never heard of that particular creature, but he knew exactly what Rusalka was and wondered if he heard her right.

"You think it's a Russian mermaid?"

Even thought Sam was the one talking, the little girl kept her eyes on Dean, nervously gauging his reaction. The eldest Winchester looked thoughtful before nodding.

"Okay," he said, "how do we kill it?"

Mikayla's eyes lit up, as if he had just announced he was taking her to Disneyland.

"You believe me?"

"Why not." Dean shrugged with a smile.

"Thanks Daddy." She beamed, snatching the laptop off the coffee table and shoving it into Dean's arms. "This is what I found so far. I have to go feed the dogs now, but we can talk about it when I get back. Okay?"

He waved his hand towards the door, gesturing her to go, and she practically skipped out of the room.

**~~~~~~~~~~Dean's POV~~~~~~~~~~**

"What the h^&* was that?"

Dean glanced up from the mythology website to see his brother staring at him.

"What was what?"

"You can't tell me you didn't see that."

"See what?" Dean demanded. "Dude, I can't answer you if I don't even know what the freaking question is."

"Mikayla." Sam said, as if it was obvious.

"What about her?"

"She seemed pretty desperate for your approval."

Dean rolled his eyes and went back to his daughter's research. He was well aware of the fact his little girl adored him, not that he deserved half of the devotion she gave him, but it really wasn't anything he liked to talk about. He didn't even do anything to make her feel that way, nothing he knew of anyway. But ever since he saw her at age three, Mikayla had decided he was the greatest man alive. The whole thing gave him a sense of honor as well as humility, neither feeling was all that comfortable for him to discuss.

"How many times have seen her?"

Now THAT was DEFINITELY a subject he was NOT going to talk about with Sam, so he just ignored him and kept scanning the web-pages Mikayla had dug up.

"You don't get to that level without spending a lot of time together."

Dean scoffed slightly, bit stayed quiet. He hadn't even spent four full days with his kid, that was no where near enough time together, but if Sam knew that he would want to know why Dean left every time, and that was not something he was ready to share.

"Say something, d%$^ it."

Dean looked up from the laptop and into the frustrated face of his little brother.

"Kid does good work."

Sam opened his mouth, just as Mikayla opened the door.

"Sorry about that, but I forgot to do it before you came."

"No problem." Dean smiled, handing her computer back.

"Did you get a chance to go over the research?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, ignoring his brother's smoldering glare, "I think you are onto something here. What do you think, Sam?"

He looked up, knowing that Sam would switch from pissed off brother to professional hunter as long as she was there. Sure enough Sam sighed and turned the computer so that he could see the screen.

"Well, Rusalki do haunt rivers, and pray on men and children, but there haven't been any reported sightings in the United States."

"Probably because they are rare." Mikayla answered, sitting down at the laptop and pulling up a new page. "Rusalki can only be made under very specific conditions. It must be a woman, usually unmarried and pregnant, who is killed by her lover or spurned and commits suicide. Her death has to take place in or near a lake or river. She then haunts the place she died, taking revenge on men for betraying her and taking the children she will never have."

"So, she is more like a woman in white then Princess Ariel." Sam summarized.

"Who?" Mikayla asked, giving him a confused look.

"Oh come on," Sam groaned, "you have NEVER seen 'The Little Mermaid'?"

"You HAVE?" She shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Sam snickered at the annoyed expression on his brother's face. That would be Kit-Kat two, Sammy zero. God, he loved this kid.

"Anyway," Dean cut in, "since it is technically a spirit, would a salt and burn kill it."

"That's what you would think, but I'm not so sure." Mikayla answered. "Best I can tell, unless we can find a way to dry out her hair, there is only one way to stop it."

"What's that?" Dean asked, leaning over her shoulder.

Mikayla scrolled down and highlighted a section of the page, causing Dean to curse under his breath. Not only were they going to have to solve the possible murder of a girl who they didn't have a name for, but they had to avenge her death, all the while avoiding Tracy while she investigated the same case and trying to keep Sam from finding out that the b&%$* used him for the last eight years. Sometimes, Dean's life just sucked.

* * *

That's all for now.

What do you guys think of Mikayla? (And does the title make sense yet?)

I'll post a few more chapters tomorrow, so if you want this story to be among them just let me know. :)


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